


Confessions

by Sakubato



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 22:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18787339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakubato/pseuds/Sakubato
Summary: After Ron wins his first Quidditch game, he kisses Lavender. This leads to other Kisses and confessions no one expects. H/Hr, one-shot





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Nope, i own nothing

Harry moved quickly down the corridor, trying to locate his best friend. The party in the common room had been a rather epic one, even by the normal Gryffindor Quidditch team standards. A 250-0 win over Slytherin would do that. The actions taken by some at said party however, were rather upsetting.

  
Ron had been the center of the party, crushing all goal attempts from the snakes. He really did have the skills to be a great Keeper, if he ever got over his confidence issues. Tricking him into thinking he’d been dosed with Felix Felicis may not be the kindest thing Harry had ever done, but at least he’d realize he had the ability once he found out. Which Harry wasn’t sure he’d do any time soon. A confident Ron was also a cocky Ron, and cocky Ron had spurned both Harry and Hermione to walk right up to Lavender Brown and stick his tongue down her throat. Lavender had but one response to this: Grab on and return the favor.  
Normally this wouldn’t have bothered Harry so much, despite knowing Hermione may have fancied him a bit. No, there were two things very wrong with this occurrence. The First was Hermione getting upset, which was probably the fastest way to upset Harry. Even ignoring his own deeper feelings, which he’d avoided showing to Hermione, he still cared deeply for the witch, and anything that caused her to be upset was unforgivable to Harry. He’d let her choose, because her happiness was more important, but never stopped caring about her. When she’d seemed to choose Ron, he’d supported her, despite those feelings. And Ron had just walked all over her.

The second thing wrong with the kiss, was it inspired Ginny to try the same thing with him, in front of Hermione. The athletic Redhead had sauntered right up to the two, and while they were still in shock, pushed Hermione out of the way and kissed him. While it was flattering to be kissed, the problem was it was the wrong girl. And by the time he’d extricated himself from her very possessive embrace, he’d just seen Hermione’s bushy hair disappear out the portrait hole.

By the time he’d made it to the corridor outside, she’d disappeared. So here he was, searching for his best friend, praying she didn’t hate him, and swearing to kill the youngest Weasley’s if they’d hurt her. He’d then have to disappear himself, since he’d apparently hurt her too, but first things first. He had to find her.  
He searched all the places he could think of near the tower, but could not find her. He’d found Ron and Lavender doing things he wished he could unsee when he’d doubled back, but no Hermione. He thought over where she could be, not in her favorite study nook at the end of the abandoned corridor, nor the unused classroom one floor down. Madam Pince said she had just left the library after grabbing a stack of books when he finally checked there. Where else could she go?

It hit him like a lightning bolt. If she really wanted to get away from everyone, even him, she’d go to the Room of Requirement. Even he couldn’t find her there since it wasn’t on the map. Moving quickly, he ran as fast as he could. Down the corridor, bouncing off the wall as he rounded a corner and managed to catch the stairs perfect, running straight to the 7th floor corridor. He spun off the wall as he careened around the corner, seeing her just disappearing into the room. Watching the door swing shut, he put everything he had left into one last burst and caught the door just before he closed.  
Slowly opening the door, he followed her into a cozy little study nook. The walls were draped in Gryffindor red and gold, giving the room a warm glow. Between the drapes he could see the walls were almost entirely bookshelves, which Harry grinned at. The fireplace and plush couch facing it reminded him somewhat of the common room, but with more cushion and more intimate. A large desk with a pair of large comfy chairs was to one side, and through a curtained off area he could see a large bed. Overall, the whole thing felt like a retreat perfect for Hermione. Like she planned on being here a while.  
“Hermione,” He said softly as she set her book bag on the desk.

Her shriek probably woke everyone in the castle.

“Don’t scare me like that…. Harry…” She turned, hand over her heart and stared. Her voice trailed off as she looked at him. “Are you real? You can’t be, the room can’t great people, and it’s against Gawps Law. But you can’t be here, you’re back in the common room kissing Ginny. And if you’re there, then you can’t be real, as much as I want you to be. But how…”

“I’m real Hermione.” Harry said softly, hanging his head. “I’ll leave if you want me to, I just needed to know you were ok.”

“How are you real?” She asked softly, “The real Harry is up in the common room snogging Ginny.”

“Why would the real harry be snogging a fan girl when you’re in need of his friendship?” Harry asked, “I know you chose Ron over me, and that watching him go snog Lavender had to hurt. But despite the hurt, you’re happiness is still important to me. Much more important than some fangirl who still has trouble talking to me about anything other than Quidditch.”

“I… what?’ Hermione stuttered, trying to understand. “What do you mean ‘chose Ron’?”

Harry blushed deeply, turning away from looking right at her. Looking around nervously, he ran his hand through his still wind tousled hair.

“This is a nice little hideaway you created here,” He tried to distract her, even though he knew it was hopeless now.

“Harry,” Hermione intoned menacingly, “Do not avoid my question.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed, “Sorry but it hurts that you choose Ron over me, okay? I tried to be as supportive as I could, even though it hurt, but you deserve to be happy. That’s what was important, regardless of my feeling.”

Hermione rocked back, not just from the words but the pain in his voice. Why… She looked at him, hard. Not menacingly anymore, but appraisingly.

“And why do you think chose Ron?” she asked, confusion lacing her voice, though accusation built, “Why do you think for one moment I chose that insensitive, self-centered, egotistical, worthless, rude….. Arghhh. Why would I chose that prat?”

“I don’t know why you did it, ok?” Harry cried out, pain cracking through, “But you did and it felt like my heart was ripped out. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is it? How the woman I love chose someone else and I have to accept it because I want her to be happy? That every time he makes you cry I want to rip his throat out but I can’t because it’d hurt you?” He turned away, but not before she saw the tears in his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders. “I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t have added to your issues, I’ll go now, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Hermione reeled, her mind flying over what was said, what Harry had confessed. What she felt. Her mind flew thousands of miles an hour, assessing everything between them.

 

First year, it had been Harry who’d come running to save her from the troll in the bathroom. Cute, naive little Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, had run to her rescue. The image of him clinging to the back of the troll, wand up its nose as he tried everything he could to save her hung before here. He was fighting something so far out of his league to save her, trying everything he could. Then she’d lied, LIED, to teachers for him. She never lied, ever, but she had for him.

Then the potions room, after all the other traps. Even then she’d felt something with him she’d never felt with anyone before. She’d almost said so, almost named it, despite their age. But she’d stopped herself, stopped before she’d used the dread word.

Second year she had stood by his side all year, even at the worst. Even Ron had wavered a time or two, but not her. She remembered being Petrified, the flash of yellow eyes in the mirror and then nothing. No, no, if she was being honest with herself there was something. A presence, not all the time, but a lot of it. Someone talking, reading to her. Someone holding her hand. She’d found out later that Harry had to be forced to leave every day. He’d come and read the assignments to her, tell her what was happening in class… hold her hand. She’d given him a giant hug when she’d woken up, but hadn’t understood why he’d cringed at first. Stupid.

Third year had been rocky, especially at Christmas. She’d stupidly taken Harry’s broom to McGonagall without his permission. She’d just been so sure, and hadn’t wanted him hurt. He’d forgiven her once she’d explained… and apologized for not coming to him first. Ron however, had accused her of everything up to treason because of it. Not her best moment.

The fight to save Buckbeak and Sirius was another harrowing experience. He’d recovered enough trust to not ask when she’d taken him back in time, even accepted her apology for not telling him sooner. They’d actually worked well together, getting Buckbeak away. She was proud of how well that had gone for all the improvisation they’d had to do. The wait had been hard, but sitting next to harry had been pretty nice all things considered. The flight on Buckbeak was less so, at least when she had to let go of harry. Odd, she thought, i wasn’t scared at all when I was holding on to Harry.

Fourth year and that cursed goblet. Stupid, no good, meddling, idiot wizards. Forcing a fourteen year old wizard in a competition that of age wizards died in regularly? What the blazes were they thinking? She still remembered the icy hole that appeared in her gut when Dumbledore announced his name. Apparently she was the only one to believe he hadn’t entered too. Ron was the worst of those offenders. Still, it was nice to have Just Harry for that time. When Victor had asked her to the ball, she’d nearly swooned. Unfortunately that had ended in near disaster… no, total. She’d had a small part of her brain hoping that if she went all out, Harry might notice her as a girl, not just his friend, but Ron had been so upset, it had nearly torn them apart. She’d then been asked to be a champions hostage, thinking she was Harry’s she’d agreed. Being rescued by Victor had led to a rather heated discussion with the Bulgarian. The third task had nearly ended her. Cedric dead, Voldemort restored, Harry almost killed and nearly crippled. It was then, watching him twitch and moan through the night, still feeling the Cruciatus. She’d sworn to herself then that if she wasn’t enough to make him happy, she’d find someone who was, because he deserved to be happy.

Fifth year, she’d tried to set Harry up with Cho Chang, and had to a point, but that had fallen on its face. The battle against Umbridge all year was quite the test of everyone’s courage. The DA, her brain child and, in her opinion, Harry’s greatest success, was still the high point. Even the detentions had been worth it. Snape’s Occlumency lessons had almost broken Harry, from what he said it was almost like mental Rape. But Harry had refused to give in, refused to ‘give the prick the satisfaction’.” Bloody pride.

The Department of Mysteries was an unmitigated disaster. On the one hand, it was impressive the loyalty Harry had inspired, even if the gold digging wench Weasley was just doing it to get close to Harry. Undertrained, underprepared, and with very little idea what was actually happening, they’d rushed off. She’d even gotten pulled into it. She’d known the possibility of a trap was there, even likely, but had followed Harry regardless. And she knew she would again. Even knowing she’d get hurt, almost killed. Because it was Harry.

Last summer she’d tried to deny her growing feelings for her dark haired friend. She’d had a lot of time to think while she was recovering. Most of the summer in fact. The scar she’d walked away from the fight with had almost cost her everything, twice. Her parents had almost pulled her out of school. She’d had a very long weekend sitting with her mother, telling her everything that had ever happened at Hogwarts. Every detail she’d left out, all the big dangerous things that had happened. She’d told them about Voldemort and Harry, the troll, the Basilisk, everything. Finally, after her dad had exploded and decided she was leaving that school and they were moving to Australia, her mother quietly asked one question. One question that broke through every bit of denial and every lock on her feelings. ‘Why?’ And the dam broke. All the feelings she’d felt for Harry, every smile she’d treasured, every whisper between them, every glancing touch. She’d barely sobbed his name before she was crying her mother's arms. Her mother had demonstrated a magic of her own in silencing her father with a look.

The long weeks of talking with her mother had helped, she’d been able to admit her feelings, why and how she felt what she did. And make a plan. She thought she’d lost her chance with him, so would stay his friend, help him find someone who’d make him happy, because his happiness was important to her.

 

 

“Wait.”

Harry was just about to the door handle to open it when it vanished. Not just the handle, the whole door. In its place was now a stone wall, much like every other wall in the castle.  
“Hermione,” He sighed, ignoring the ache in his chest, “I’m trying to give you the space you wanted.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?” Harry leaned his forehead against the cool stone wall before him. He fought down the urge to turn around, to go to her, to do something to ease the pain in her voice… or was it pain? Fear? Disbelief? Anxiety? He couldn’t tell exactly what it was.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted, “I think i, i think we need to talk.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders, letting them fall down his back before wrapping around him and pulling her into his back. Harry’s breath hitched at the touch, fighting his instincts as her hands ran over his back and around his sides. Then he cringed as he felt wet on his back. She was crying.

“I think we’ve both be denying what is right in front of us and we…” Her voice cracked under the emotion, “we need to be honest with each other.”

“What…” Harry’s voice was raw as it hitched, He turned to look at her as she buried herself into his chest and he returned the hug. “What do you mean?”

“I think we both love each other and have been denying it for the sake of the other,” She cried, “We both thought the other one didn’t return the feelings, the Love, we felt and we both decided to be noble about it.”

“Both?”

“Yes Harry, Both of us,” Hermione sighed in exasperation, “Because I love you too.”


End file.
